


Mend

by LegendofMajora



Series: Mend [3]
Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mild Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-06
Updated: 2014-10-06
Packaged: 2018-02-20 03:39:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2413601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LegendofMajora/pseuds/LegendofMajora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You don't have to give up. Trust me, is all I'm asking. I'm not making you something you're not." They both needed this more than they cared to admit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mend

"Izaya."

He stopped dead cold, having possibly gone into rigor mortis by the call of his name by a hauntingly familiar voice. Broken fingers twitched despite the numbness tingling down his left hand that had been there since the cast was put on. It was far too tight and his arm was completely numb save for the pins and needles that ached constantly with every echoed pulse of his heartbeat. Behind him he could feel the presence of Shizuo, lingering at the door; arms crossed and door still open to the outside world of early late summer morning. Brown eyes on him, watching every single move narrowed from the words of their fight and fingers tensing and releasing when he imagined the way Izaya couldn't control himself in the moment of a state of panic. Don't turn around and face him. The game was over and he couldn't take much more of this the way his heart thumped in tandem with his head throbbing.

"Izaya," gentler this time the way his name vibrated molecules in the air and created sound it made his breath catch when it shouldn't have affected him this much. His name hung above him like a sort of halo going around and around in his head, completely blank and all thoughts empty and useless. "I—uh, are you..."

His logic was screaming _don't do it don't do it don't do it_ but what was there to do with no way out and certainly no way back in because last fight meant logic became a fallacy. Emotions were cruel and useless toys he'd rather break off his own so he didn't have to—hurt—feel. Against himself in every aspect he forced his tensed shoulders to straighten and pulled his head up, not turning to face—"Just grabbing my things, Shizu-chan." his voice was so tight it was surprising it didn't crack or squeak from the rigid muscles in his throat, tightening when those fingers were around it, crushing and squeezing to constrict every last of him and swallow him whole. This was why he never wanted to do this in the first place—it's too painful, too much to process all the bitter clenching of his heart, an organ with just _one_ job or the way he had to not make his head swim with too much information. Ironic for him.

Shizuo took the initiative to step in, closing the door behind him and when it clicked Izaya was convinced he almost flinched. No way out, then, but the way back in? "Turn around, Izaya. I need to talk to you."

He almost laughed with a strangled cry lodged in his throat that denoted only the finest of bringing out the worst. Had to keep biting his tongue to make sure it didn't slide down his throat. What he hated was how this monster, this protozoic amoeba could bring a god like him crashing down from the heavens or wherever they reigned with his name. "I believe we've already had this discussion last night, Shizu-chan." For insult to injury Izaya lifted—painfully, teeth grinding when he did—his left arm in a cast that didn't have a sling to stabilize it, meaning it just hurt even more. Everything did nowadays when he played this game in which he didn't know the rules of. And they kept _changing_.

"I—" Izaya heard Shizuo's wince and felt the way he would cringe whenever Izaya would get hurt during one of their chases, and this wasn't any different than usual. He kept telling himself Shizuo did not sound guilty or remorseful at all. This was his decision and he didn't want this anymore so there was no reason they should be having this discussion in the first place. No need to tip beyond the breaking point when the information spilled out already in the form of some bloody, beaten thing that was supposed to be what Izaya wasn't entirely sure what to call because it never existed. (Maybe just to Shizuo, the feeling's mutual.) Because he'll never admit—"Izaya, just turn around and listen to me. We need to talk about this."

The laugh that forced itself past his split lip and made his lips curl into a tight smile was not completely Izaya's planned reaction. But then again nothing really was when he was near this beast. And he'd bet Shizuo knew how much of his sanity he was devouring like the beast he was. "There's nothing to talk about, Shizu-chan. You're done, I'm done, it doesn't matter and it never has." His laptop was right there, right in front of him and maybe he could grab it and just figure out a way to leave. Even though his switchblade was in his left pocket, he could not bring himself to twist and feel the burning of bruises staining his back flare up his spine and buzz in his head. Shizuo, in turn, exhaled in a sigh and one shoe stepped forward. Izaya tensed, pretending all the while nothing bothered him because nothing ever did when it shouldn't.

"Are you saying the last six months don't matter to you?" What was with the brute? Why wasn't he screaming in anger or throwing things or threatening to kill him? There were more questions like why every word Shizuo said kept repeated in his thoughts while everything else has been thrown out the window which wasn't as pleasant as it sounded. Izaya wanted to leave and never face Shizuo in this apartment when he didn't know whether or not this would be a repeat of last night by the way the fingers of his right hand were trembling violently. He cursed under his breath and clenched them into a shaking fist.

"They don't," Izaya agreed in a smaller voice, low and almost a murmur and he stiffly nodded once. Another step and his heart began to pound: each one of the bruises on his throat throbbed and burned like Shizuo's hands were squeezing him right now. "And they don't to you either, Shizu-chan. There was nothing there in the first place." Take it back take it back take it back—No, he growled to himself and found it not all that funny he couldn't keep himself in control around a beast. Any god provoked would do so, right? Then that unmistakeable feeling of being very much alive burning underneath his skin and itching. Sticky blood meant nothing of fear and anger and whatever disgusting feelings he knew he never had.

"Why not?" Shizuo had surprised him enough times, but this may take the prize when he still wasn't angry. In fact, he sounded almost hurt. But monsters never felt pain, or at least not Shizuo. "I thought you wanted this as much as I did." _And that was not at all_ Izaya wanted to add but for the moment he played off anything he thought of besides figuring out ways to escape. And with a smile that tugged the broken skin of his lips open further and blood trickled onto his teeth it wasn't coming to him. Izaya happened to be in one of the worst moments of not having his usual ability of speaking eloquently. Rather it was embedded in the wall where when he looked—don't think about that—the crater and dried blood remained and Shizuo stepped closer.

The look on the idiot's face was probably some sort of weird frown trying to make him look apologetic. But in the end looking stupid because he was stupid and monsters never made any emotion visible when they didn't have them. Gods, like himself, happened to be above petty human trivialities. Their hearts certainly did not impale themselves on their ribs and lungs inflate and cripple into pathetic wheezing lumps of pink. Nor were they slowly turning black without the use of cigarettes but the lack of air in a monster's apartment. "It was nothing." Izaya dismissed the entire notion with a wave of his right hand and hissed when the movement travels down his spine and the lumping bruises that throb achingly.

"Izaya," Shizuo's voice was so quiet and low. So unlike a beast Izaya couldn't possibly turn around when all he expected was a beast in the disguise of human skin waiting to jump at him and rip him apart. Considering the predicament he was in and the way the turmoil would not stop no matter how long he forced himself to sit and stare, he couldn't banish the ugly churning and twisting not only in his head. In complete darkness it was more merciful to be torn apart by the one and only who could do such a thing to a god. "I feel like you never tell me anything. Whether you're angry or damn it, _hurt,_ I never know."

"And you, you're so damn confusing that I have no idea what we've been doing for the past six months instead of killing each other like we used to. I don't know what to call this." Shizuo continued, eyes boring into Izaya' bruised back and drifting down the curve of his spine. "But I don't...fuck, I don't want to go back to what we were then. And I don't care if you don't want to call this anything, but I can't just forget. I can't forget that." Soon Shizuo was right behind him and Izaya was positive Shizuo would hear the way his heart hammered. And his fingers twitched and trembled because Shizuo had that effect on anyone for being such a cold, heartless monster. Just like him, except not a monster like a beast. But still his breath caught on his tongue and it felt like drowning in salt water with Shizuo behind him. Heat emanated from his brutish body and Izaya's head started to feel fuzzy. Angrily pushing away the swollen numbness leaking back in the sludge of ice freezing his veins.

He tried to will himself to speak, but nothing came out when he parted his lips though he refused to turn back to Shizuo. Heaviness surged in his chest beneath his lungs and crushed against them, forcing the wind out of his breath and leaving him unable to breathe deeply. Shallow breaths dotted the silence between them and Izaya couldn't help the way his shoulders shook when Shizuo's hot breath fanned across the nape of his neck. Fingers twitched for his switchblade now but in the confined space Izaya knew he had no chance to escape.

"Time's up." Izaya croaked, clearing his voice and forcing himself to lock in place without tremors pulling him apart. His head ached with the pulsing raw wetness of his heart strangling itself in the dark sludge trickling down the nape of his neck. Maybe he can win this game. "The time has come, so let's break up." Like his chest had been scraped out and sanded down to the polished edge of apathy he felt himself cave in from the emptiness of his words. Before the fragile spine holding him up cracked with the look he knew Shizuo had on his face. It was all for the game, just ignore what didn't make sense and ignore how he frowned because he was only trying to get Izaya to lose.

"Ah?" Shizuo's voice dropped even lower if it could and the way he sounded—stop, remain firm. This was for the _best_. Couldn't just have himself caving in now to the stupid nonexistent ugly emotions leaking from every crack and flaw in his logic. He thought he sealed it tightly with barbed wire around his brain enough times to keep himself in control.

There was no ache in his chest. Nothing. _Liar, liar._

"What kind of bullshit are you pulling?" Shizuo's voice rose quickly, becoming edged like a double-edged sword. When was the moment Izaya would grin and laugh, pissing Shizuo off just in the name of a stupid joke to keep him on edge when he was being his usual self? Anger seared and clenched the tightening coils of Shizuo's veins, rising to shield his mind from thinking. Any more of his temper would allow the red clouding his vision to come out in more barbs from his throat.

No. Stop. Breathe, because Izaya didn't sound like himself at all and that's an obvious marker he's only trying to shield himself from hurting. Because he _fucked up_ last time. And this meant he couldn't do this any more than then which still screamed the brutal words right back at him he'd growled like an animal with.

"Get away from me, Shizu-chan." Izaya pulled himself forward, reaching to grasp for his laptop with one hand and the other resisting as it twitched at his side. Clearing his head and forcing himself to calm down like Tom-san instructed him to do, this was more for the bowed head of a cocky informant. And maybe the hurt rolling off both of them in waves of a tsunami aftermath. Chest clenching Shizuo questioned briefly if the pain sinking into his chest (between the third and fourth ribs) was an actual knife or the one he'd stabbed Izaya with multiple times last night, even if he couldn't see it. And he'd bet that there were bruises.

"No," Shizuo planted himself firmly and on whim he reached forward. Wrapping his arms carefully but firmly around Izaya's skinny waist he felt with a grim reminder of his violence in the shudder and tensing of the muscles beneath the skin. Even when Shizuo remained inches away, not wanting to exacerbate this any more. "I'm not going to do this to you again."

"Do _what?_ " Izaya struggled in his grasp but with a noticeable reluctance, as if he was hesitant to move the way he would from an injury—Not just to his heart which only held love for _humans_ and emotional pain didn't even exist—Shizuo's brain started connecting the dots, especially the ones on Izaya's pale throat created by his disgust in himself (how could he do this) because it's stupid. So fucking stupid that he's this much in love with the louse. And by the way things look, he'd fallen too hard and too deep to back out now although Izaya's never willing to cooperate. ( _It's your fault_.)

Shizuo sighed and let his fingers—gently—skim over Izaya's clothed hips. Fingers tracing the usual patterns that always made him shudder against him and press their lips closer when any space meant too much between them. This time, however, Izaya squirmed but a gasp of pain rumbled in his throat.

"Let _go,_ you monster _._ " Izaya hissed, twisting and rigid despite the shudder than came from his movement. His hand reaching for the laptop slapped at Shizuo's hands, struggling to pry them off but was quickly captured. Felt the iron grip warming up his cold hand quickly as fingers threaded through his. No, no, _no_ ; why was this happening? What did that protozoan amoeba not understand? "Haven't you done enough? Get off!"

"No," Shizuo pulled Izaya closer, just enough to touch the fabric of his shirt and feel Izaya's hair brushing his nose. "I-za-ya-kun, you're feeling down, aren't you." A ripple of muscle brushed against Shizuo, trailing down Izaya's back and telling him silently that he was pushing the right buttons. A larger, more guilty part of him was unsure that he was pushing too far, after the shameful things he had done. Maybe he didn't deserve to be this close to Izaya but would never forgive himself for hurting him again. But, he told himself, he couldn't let Izaya escape when there was so much he needed to know.

"I'm a parasite, you said it yourself." Izaya spat and forced himself to drag his breaths so Shizuo wouldn't feel the heartache that didn't exist. Directly in the numbness threatening to take over again shifting in the corners of his vision. Hiccups of his breaths kept breaking apart in his throat as he tried to suck in air with an icy grip searing into his lungs. His eyes watered—from _pain—_ from his arm when he tried to shift it and the pins and needles tumbled down his broken bones, scratching at the surface and tearing through the muscles of his arm. "So then, Shizu-chan, are you going to kill me yourself? I'm not a patient person."

Lips ghosted the skin of his nape and traitorously his eyelids fluttered shut. Hot breaths caressed the gooseflesh he swore wasn't there. And the rumble of Shizuo's voice only added to the list of things he hated about the beast. "You know I didn't mean what I said." he murmured, brushing his lips gingerly against a faded bruise as an apology.

"Oh, then what did you mean? Because I recall that you hated me before you broke my arm, Shizu-chan." Izaya struggled again, failing when Shizuo's arms braced against him with little to no effort. Shizuo's lips pressed to the sensitive flesh, as if he was pressing silent apologies for his anger into the marks that remained. Each pressing left the ghost of fingers choking, grabbing and crushing—replaced with careful, observant touches. Bothering Izaya more than he cared to admit to himself.

The hollow scoop of his chest, dangling by the thread of his spine, made his efforts useless in escaping. Already so when his eyes stung and his vision blurred with a sense of vertigo clinging to him. This monster was going to eat him alive, and tear him apart when he had planned to do that to Shizuo. He hadn't realized how the situation was so easily reversed onto him and he foolishly chose not to believe it. In the moments of being with Shizuo, he saved the self-doubting hatred for being alone because his head would never cooperate with Shizuo around. The nagging sense of self-preservation continued to gnaw at his thoughts. Every moment of each failure, committed to memory with the feel of Shizuo's lips instead of ways to tear the monster of Ikebukuro apart from the inside out. Nothing was making sense in these last six months, all because of one mistake. And then he relapsed.

"Your hints are so hard to tell," Shizuo explained as if he hadn't noticed Izaya's eventual zoning out. He was slackening against the hold while the icy cold clung to aching muscles and slithered through cracks in bone. "I never know what you're thinking and why, so it's always confusing when you act like you're angry and I'm trying to figure out what I'm doing wrong. I'm not good at these kinds of things anyway."

Cold. Dark, thick, jagged emptiness overtook the informant. His body shut down with the last attempts of preservation by his brain, reluctantly giving in and held up on by Shizuo's hold on his hips and hand that faded in the sluggish mess of short-circuited nerves. Too much information fried his mind already exhausted from the emotional ordeal the night before. Followed by hours of staying awake with the same mental torture of every word he'd said wrong and _it was all his fault._

"...I..." Shizuo's lips rested against Izaya's ear, feeling the twitch of muscles responding unconsciously while feeling the informant. As if he was a doll, held only by strings. "Izaya, look at me." he commanded quietly but it was more of a question between them. Pressed his lips to a bruise below Izaya's ear with another silent apology. Turning the informant with surprising ease to face him, he held him close with one hand on the small of Izaya's back. And the other holding the wrist he hadn't broken.

"Oi, flea," Shizuo caught Izaya's blank stare with an ugly purplish bruise around Izaya's left eye. It stabbed with a raw reminder of what he'd done, knowing the look of Izaya's self-isolation whenever he tried to shut himself down. "Look at me. Come on, you can't just hide like this now." Without an answer Shizuo pulled Izaya into his chest, keeping one hand resting carefully on the other's back. Watched how he trembled and the other tangling in Izaya's hair, which he always enjoyed doing despite Izaya's annoying complaints.

Shizuo breathed in the scent of Izaya's shampoo which was weird. But somehow still a reminder that the flea wasn't entirely his yet, kept rebelling when Shizuo tried to take him further. Tickling his nose with the short hair brushing against him, he rested his head against Izaya's, forcing himself to calm down and think for a moment. Mainly he didn't want to voice the embarrassing words that came to mind. But this was his chance to apologize and if he didn't do it he doubted he'd ever get to keep Izaya like this when his heart's already tired.

"I'm sorry, Izaya." Shizuo spoke in a manner completely ironic to his character: quiet, gentle, yet serious as he murmured for only one person. Only the one in his arms he couldn't bear to let go or admit out loud how much he loved him. Like his name was befitting. "It's like you said, damn it. I'm childish, and when you piss me off I lose control and I destroy everything. I'm a complete asshole as much as you're an annoying flea." His fingers tightened in Izaya's hair, waiting for Izaya to respond but was met with silence. The flea was boneless leaning against him, powerless to do much of anything else.

"I'm an idiot." he admitted much to his pride that was then thrown aside when he felt Izaya suck in a breath, shifting against his shoulder. It felt weird and revealing, making himself vulnerably to someone he used to hate. And the thought especially of having to do this to him didn't settle any of his rational thoughts at all. His rage was bottled down, forced out of the way because Izaya was more important, he realized, than any rage (he struggled to control). Having Izaya here after all he'd succumbed to from selfish impulses, it wasn't a possibility to him to allow his one chance to fix everything.

"I've fucked up. I started fights for no damn reason, never listened to you. Because I just didn't care when I've been angry and I did this to you." his voice dropped to a quieter tone. His hand moved to carefully massage the bruises dotting Izaya's throat from his countless mistakes. Hit him in head-on with every twitch and skipped breath Izaya produced from the aching flesh. This was all his fault, he knew this grimly and forced himself to accept this. Because it wasn't fair if he pretended nothing was wrong and Izaya was using him. It felt more like the opposite now.

He rested his chin on Izaya's head, grimacing when Izaya flinched beneath him. Thumbs traced circles over the informant's shirt, counting the number of times muscles tightened beneath him when he ran over a sensitive spot that wasn't with pleasure. Disgust flavored his tongue with churned stomach acid.

"I did everything to you for no fucking reason." Shizuo admitted. "You took it all, like the idiot flea you are and the reason why I don't even know. I don't know how you could even bear to be near me, when I'm the monster who forced you into this. And all I've done is use you because that's what I thought you wanted." The next words resting on the back of his tongue bubbled up from his throat, forcing their way out. "I didn't realize...you're human. Or we're both monsters. Because there's no sane reason you'd kiss me and stay with me when all I've done is beat you to a bloody pulp. Even when we were dating."

Moments passed and neither said a word. "I feel like a fool." he started once again, stroking and soothing as best as he knew how to from past experiences. All the while his mind constantly warred with itself. Self-hatred and anger tore him apart, exacerbated by Izaya's lack of response—is he even alive—while his breaths slowly began to regulate. Shallow inhales that rattled in his chest with the lack of oxygen leaving his head light. Looking down Shizuo noticed the red eyes—danger, danger—had closed, akin to a sign he thought meant something, but wasn't entirely sure to voice it.

"I could never hate you." Shizuo tightened his grip and only remembered Izaya's possible injuries when the other flinched and struggled to get away. Still silent with tuning out to the world though Shizuo knew he was listening. Emotions weren't their strong suits, Izaya never acknowledging his and Shizuo's too violent or unrefined to convey what he felt. Their odd chemistry, somehow complete with explosions from time to time and their clashing personalities, had drawn them together. Like it did now as a chemical reaction that could reverse and still be the same thing. "I don't hate you. You're annoying as fuck and a cheeky bastard, but that's far from...ugh, damn it." L-word, covered and dripping in animosity flooded his tongue and between his clenched teeth. Struggling to break free or shatter every bone in its way, crafted of six months living between kisses tentative to teeth-gnashing. And holding each other under the security of bedsheets in the moments the rest of the world never existed. And the aching pains neither wanted to feel nor admit to bearing with each and every fight.

"I love you." Three words similar to every other word that came out of the brute's mouth whenever they fought. But this was different in being one of the rare moments where Shizuo wasn't pretending to hate him or throwing him out of his apartment. And for some reason, Izaya felt as if he was under a microscope, being closely examined for his reaction. His head churned with melting ice mixing into sludge as he returned from his built-up walls that were so easily broken by just three words. It was disgusting how such a simple phrase could destroy him like that. It should have been the other way around with Shizuo losing his mind. Instead of a genius like himself losing to his own game with the rules pulled out from underneath him.

Shizuo crafted the words struggling to break free with surprising ease. He pulled Izaya back from his chest before the informant had the time to react to the confession. Eyes barely flickering open with slits of red that Shizuo always was fascinated with when he leaned forward. Pressed their lips together to seal the words in a promise. "I love you, flea, and I'm not going to let you go." he pulled back and his lips brushed Izaya's as he murmured. Carefully he swept his tongue at the split lip Izaya was sporting to avoid splitting the skin further. And for the first moments of Shizuo pressing his lips to Izaya's as naturally as breathing air, Izaya was rigid. Overcome with the self-imposed ice age and the slow melting that flooded him, filling the emptiness with an uncomfortable fullness.

Then the dams burst. A small whimper came from Izaya, shifting into a soft groan as Shizuo licked at his lips and he parted them. Tried to catch his breath to recover from his vertigo plaguing him. Black spots dotting his vision began to evaporate, clearing up the image of Shizuo attending to the injuries he'd caused starting with his split lip. His hands shook as they flooded with restrained emotion that he could never process due to the logic of his brain. And his eyes blurred with stinging saltwater that eventually trickled out, down his cheeks and curving gracefully to gather at his chin and fall like drops of glass. He wanted—needed—Shizuo, holding him in place and make the frustrating emotions turn into something manageable. Preferably annoyance or anger instead of having confusing reactions in which he didn't know how to respond and therefore didn't enjoy at all.

Shizuo, however, never did anything asked of him. The moment his brown eyes caught sight of Izaya's eyes darkened by the chemical response resulting in the tears leaking from Izaya's eyes he paused. Before the informant turned away Shizuo held his head, kissing the trails of tears and tasting the bitterness with each drop. The flea tried to play it off like nothing was happening. Shizuo knew, with practiced ease, that Izaya was embarrassed with the way his eyes darted to the side and he pretended not to notice Shizuo's eyes attempting to catch his gaze. Watching vulnerability would make Izaya feel empowered, having not to be the one portraying weakness. But now with the situation reversed, he remembered the very little benefits, if any at all, of being a human being.

A hand slid under his shirt, trailing over the bruised flesh of Izaya's back which had him bucking forward. Scrunching away from the painful touch and Shizuo pulled back, asking a silent question which Izaya answered with a glare. Trailing his fingers over the flesh he felt the increased temperature emanating from certain areas, most likely from being thrown around like a rag doll by his earlier ministrations. The guilt clawed at him like an angry stinging barb as a constant reminder of yet another failure. To which he shook his head to dismiss the aggressive thought and focus on the informant in front of him.

"Show me your back." Shizuo began to turn Izaya who began to struggle, grabbing at Shizuo's hand that rotated him so that his back. Slowly he was being exposed as Shizuo raised his shirt with a scrutinizing stare. The informant shuddered involuntarily, feeling eyes bore into his bruised back and the humiliation that came paired with.

"...Shit." Shizuo articulated eloquently, careful to examine the bruises with the pads of his fingers. Ghosting over the numerous blackish-purple coloring etched into the skin with angry ink.

"Ne, ne, Shizu-chan, let me go." Izaya squirmed, fighting the hand around his waist unsuccessfully when he suddenly felt hot breath on his cooled skin. Shizuo's lips pressed against his shoulder blade, where the highest bruise blossomed with the wall's indent pressed into his skin. A surprised groan dripped from his clenched teeth, unintentionally leading Shizuo on.

"Ne—stop it, Shizu-chan!" Shizuo's tongue had flicked against another one between his shoulder blades, making him fuss and tremble as he resisted the feeling that spiked through him. His body responded traitorously against the gentle touches to each bruise, trailing down lower which caused sparks of electricity to race down his spine. Or until Shizuo had finally ceased his stupidity long enough for Izaya to pull his shirt back down and fix the protozoan idiot with a withering glare.

"You're disgusting, Shizu-chan." he curled his lip into a snarl to which Shizuo laughed, not caring or too stupid to understand how degrading his actions were. Suddenly Izaya was turned back around to face Shizuo, meeting the gaze of brown without blue sunglasses as per usual.

"Love you too, flea." Before he could stop him Shizuo had leaned forward and stole another kiss, leaving Izaya temporarily reeling while his thoughts scrambled away once again. Izaya shook his head and tried to pull away from the lips that caught his. But with the hand at the back of his head sliding into his hair he had officially lost every option of escaping—himself—this.

Shizuo's tongue was flicking at his lower lip shortly before he pushed through. And the disgusting muscle was taking over Izaya's mouth, winning the easy wrestle between them when Izaya offered no resistance. He sucked, earning a reflexive moan and drinking it down as it reverberated into his mouth. The slick feel of Shizuo's tongue grasping his kept Izaya's nerves firing, overwhelming coherent thoughts of escape before he could get hurt again. And because he couldn't do this again to be pushed away like a joke.

The brute pulled away, resting his kiss-swollen lips just inches from Izaya's. "You're crying, flea." At the mention, the distinct sensation of saltwater trailing down his skin and hanging on his eyelashes etched its way into his overstimulated nerves. He wanted to tell Shizuo to fuck off, but those brown eyes met his and he only shook his head bitterly to pretend Shizuo's words weren't a tentative apology probably amassing in his throat. His devolved brain could only do so little. Struggling currently with the infuriating display of emotions leaking from his eyes and seizing his throat, he couldn't find any sarcastic comeback to make Shizuo let him go. And start to rebuild his image.

"You have no idea," his eyes were boring into Izaya's, making everything much more uncomfortable than it already was. "How much I hate myself for the shit I've pulled." As if to articulate, his head dipped down, tilting Izaya's head back to expose his bruised throat and then lips were on the skin. Izaya was flushed with humiliation the way he couldn't help how Shizuo made him react so uncontrollably. Especially when he leaned forward into the touch because he wanted it. ( _Needed_ it.)

"Mmn, s-stop it," Izaya twisted his head away to hide the color on his cheeks. "You beast, let go of me." It felt so wrong to feel so delectable the way Shizuo peppered his throat with apologetic kisses, stopping to suck carefully at some of the darker ones which shot sparks of pain into Izaya's fried brain. This was getting out of control, he couldn't just let this happen that easily. "Sh-Shizu-chan, e-enough," he panted, turning his head away from the lips seeking his fervently. His one good hand pushed at the fabric tangled in his fingers, meeting a solid wall of flesh that refused to budge.

"Stop it, you idiot." Izaya pushed himself off of Shizuo, stumbling back but refusing to accept the hand offered to him. His head was filled to the brim with too many conflicting thoughts, exacerbating the headache plaguing him. Eyes closed to sort the wild thoughts clashing heavily and surprisingly Shizuo stood back and let him be.

The silence between them didn't last long enough. Izaya hadn't looked at him at all and something suspiciously sounding like _why_ came from him under a sigh as his right arm cradled his obviously broken left one.

"Why? Why not." Shizuo replied nonchalantly before Izaya fixed him with an irritated look, the one he'd use to reprimand the blond. As if the answer was more blatant than his apparent lack of intelligence.

A sigh. "Shizu-chan, that's not a reason." Izaya was mainly talking to himself now, face paler than normal and Shizuo now starting to notice. "What do you even want from me, information? Is that why we've played this game only you know the rules to? Very clever, Shizu-chan, but it's getting old."

A surge of anger—No, stay calm. This was how he cut himself off so it wouldn't hurt. "I want you."

Eyes fluttered open, the strangest shade of brown that was red like stop signs and blood. He was tired, Shizuo noticed how his frown struggled to stay in place and his eyelids were starting to fall, eyelashes shielding any more cracks in the walls. He'd built them so carefully brutish strength couldn't (but the unreasonable, fleshy, swollen mass of emotion of all things could) tear down.

An excuse. "I can't give you that." A strangled, shuttering sigh for the not enough times in one morning. Sunlight filtered in through the windows with an early morning wake-up call and a reminder that no one in the room had slept.

"Yes, you can." Shizuo stated as if it were so easy. "Because there are two sides to this. I'm just one. It means giving and taking." Celty came to mind, her advice trickling into his mind and keeping him going, keeping the temper calm. There was nothing to be angry about.

"Let me go, Shizu-chan." Izaya's voice was growing weaker much to his displeasure as exhaustion crept in. The stupid, soft parts of his diseased brain wanted this somehow. No. He couldn't take another fight he'd tried to understand and end up being bruised again. "I'm not playing anymore."

"Then don't." Calm. Hints of anger brushing underneath the surface but caged with glass. Letting Izaya see inward to a glimpse of the most frustrating being on the planet he'd ever know of. Asking to do the same. Letting go of what he could hold on to and having to give in. He couldn't. "I don't want to play either. I just want you."

Words stumbled out on their own accord, stinging past the reminders of last night. "How?" He swallowed the bitterness even though it wasn't an answer.

"Love me like you already do and I've been too stupid to notice until now. I don't know anything about stuff like this. But if it's with you..." _it feels good._

It shouldn't be this way. This game wasn't meant for Shizuo to win and Izaya to lose control and humiliate him again and again with his own withering humanity. Only monsters could hurt and tear and rip apart everything and every thread of logic that kept him separated from anyone and anything else.

"This isn't a game, Shizu-chan." He was beyond tired and wanted nothing more than to go home and sleep until he could forget everything and anything of Heiwajima Shizuo. It wasn't fair, the way a monster could win against a god and take his kingdom from him with one fell swoop.

"No, it's not." Shizuo agreed, adding more fuel to the fire that was starting to spark. He reached out, grasping Izaya's right arm just enough to hold on but loose enough so that there was an unspoken choice between them and this time there was no flinch. Answer waiting for decision and Shizuo didn't speak anymore. But Izaya didn't push him off or turn away, eyes downcast at the floor but conflicted.

Almost like he was scared.

Shizuo didn't understand him much at all but he could say with confidence that he'd finished the argument. And testing the waters of Izaya's ruined game of strategy he didn't want to see Izaya look so unlike himself. Like the small child hiding beneath barbs and games and made of loneliness, just like himself.

Izaya's head was buried in his shoulder, an arm wrapping around him while the other supporting his broken arm when he was pressed into the mountain of a monstrous man enough to be convinced not to leave. His head was probably swimming in too many conflicting thoughts that would keep him awake at night. And he'd be curling into Shizuo because sleep never came at times he felt emptier than he was when realizing how human he happened to be. Couldn't come to terms with being alone with his refusal to accept anything other than what he wanted. "You don't have to give up. Trust me, is all I'm asking. I'm not making you something you're not." They both needed this more than they cared to admit.

"I hate you, Shizu-chan." Tentative, grasping and poised, ready to run if needed. The words vibrated from Izaya's throat and sticky with heaviness of heart matter, more callous in use and abuse than brain matter and logic dictated this wasn't important. It also dictated Shizuo shouldn't exist.

But somehow he did.

"I know." Shizuo breathed, and reached for the offering and clasped it the way his arm tightened around Izaya and coaxed Izaya to hold on to him not out of necessity but of wanting to trust, willing to fall. And be caught so only Shizuo could have him.

And somehow, a human god like Izaya existed too.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> It's finally done, thank goodness. Thank you to everyone who enjoys this series, and thank you for your lovely comments. My next series, Clockwork, will be coming out soon as well and Edge will be updated as per normal. 
> 
> And now I've just finished shortening some of the run-on sentences, a bad habit of mine.
> 
> Thank you for reading and enjoying.


End file.
